


Riding the Edge

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Birthday Party, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looked around the room and saw every face she had ever loved, gathered around her. The people she had worked with, the people she had fought with, the people she trusted more than she ever had in her entire life. The people, Imani realized, that had held her hand in the darkness when she’d been lost; the ones who had refused to give up on her, even when the Galaxy had forgotten her in its ceaselessness and pitilessness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kylenne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylenne/gifts).



Imani let herself be led through the ship, smiling when Thane and Garrus whispered to one another like she had suddenly gone deaf. She was blindfolded, like she didn’t know her own ship, or like she wouldn’t understand they meant to lead her to a surprise birthday party. When she had seen the slip of silken fabric in Thane’s hand, Imani had assumed they meant to celebrate her birthday in the best of ways, but unfortunately---

“I can hear you, you know,” she said. Even blindfolded, she could tell they were embarrassed. Garrus breathed sharply through his teeth, something he only did when he was thinking of something witty to say, or engaging in something altogether different, usually between her thighs. Thane was silent, but she had learned the nuances of his silences, the subtle differences between a silence borne of contemplation and one borne of having nothing overly bright to say.

They stopped. Imani guessed they were at the Lounge, judging by what floor she knew they were on and how little they had walked from the elevator. She knew the Normandy like the back of her hand. Blindfolding her had been a pointless, though pleasant, endeavor. Imani smiled to herself and waited for them to lead her inside, or remove her blindfold. 

“At least pretend to be surprised,” Garrus said. “Tali’s the one who wanted to throw this party for you. Ah, I mean, we all did, of course---”

“Siha,” Thane interrupted. Imani knew he was giving Garrus an irritated look, most likely a nudge of his elbow. The fact that she knew so much about them, that she could almost feel every shift of their bodies and slight catch in their breath warmed her down to her toes. Her smile softened, became sweet and crooked, when Thane kissed her temple. “Happy birthday,” he finished.

“Happy birthday,” Garrus echoed, nuzzling his forehead against hers.

The door opened and her blindfold slipped away.

She had been expected a few of them gathered in the Lounge, drinks poured, streamers and balloons and ridiculous hats, standing in front of some corny banner that shouted, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHEPARD, or perhaps something a bit more comical like, YOU’RE ONE YEAR CLOSER TO DEATH (AGAIN). 

Instead, the room was packed full. 

Imani saw Jacob and Kaidan by the pool table, laughing and preparing for a game. Wrex and Grunt were butting heads, literally, while everyone else cheered them on. Their faces seemed to blur together and become indistinct, and Imani realized there were tears in her eyes. She blinked them back and took a deep breath to steady herself, hardly feeling Thane’s hand her arm or Garrus’ fingers curled at the small of her back; hardly feeling them, but appreciating them all the same. 

Jack and Miranda was talking together, and managing not to reduce the entire ship to a smoldering wreckage. Cortez was leaned against the wall, and getting a little familiar with a certain lieutenant with a penchant for crashing cruisers. James looked good, Imani thought, flushed and sweaty at his temples with his leg slipped between Cortez’s knees.

They _all_ looked good.

Joker sat in a chair by the window with EDI beside him, her hand on the back of his neck. Imani imagined her fingers were slightly cold, but not in the way that they’d be uncomfortable; the good kind of cold that reminded you of hairs you forgot you had on the back of your neck. Traynor was with them, smiling and drinking, but more interested in watching than participating. 

Liara wandered the room, checking in on people, chastising when their rowdiness broke glasses or spilled drinks or -- in one instance -- left Vega with a black eye. 

“Kid has a mouth on him,,” Zaeed excused. “What can I say?”

When they noticed her standing in the doorway, they all became quiet. “Shepard!” Tali exclaimed, “Oh, we... We didn’t know you’d be--- I told you both a half hour!”

Thane and Garrus looked at one another. 

“She is a willful lady,” Thane said. 

“We tried distracting her with our charm, but...” Garrus shrugged. Hard to tell when a Turian was smiling, but Imani knew he was. “I guess we’re just not as charming as we thought.”

Tali crossed her arms over her chest. “And I’m sure you tried your hardest.”

“Surprise!” Kasumi shouted. Everyone laughed and echoed her and Tali chuckled, and everything was fine. 

“Happy birthday, Shep,” Kasumi said. “How old are you now? I mean, assuming you count the two years you spent dead.”

“That charm work on your targets, Goto?” Imani asked.

“I improvise,” Kasumi said. She grinned and left a kiss on Imani’s cheek.

She spent the next hour greeting everyone, taking a moment to rub her finger over James’ shiner, humming in approval. It had been a nice punch, at the very least, and James wore it pretty well. 

“Hurts like hell,” James said.

“Yeah, I bet,” Imani laughed. “You gonna mope about it?”

“Plan to,” James said. He grabbed a beer from the cooler and popped the top. “Pretty good at it, or so I’ve been told.” He tilted the bottle towards her, in a mock salute. “Happy birthday, Lola.”

She turned and nearly ran into Legion.

“Shepard-Commander.”

“Legion?” Imani asked. 

“Congratulations on the day of your birth, Shepard-Commander,” Legion said.

Imani smiled. “Thanks, Legion. I think.”

When she was through greeting everyone and had worked her way through the crowd, Imani found a wall to lean against, taking the pressure off of her feet. She looked around the room and saw every face she had ever loved, gathered around her. The people she had worked with, the people she had fought with, the people she trusted more than she ever had in her entire life. The people, Imani realized, that had held her hand in the darkness when she’d been lost; the ones who had refused to give up on her, even when the Galaxy had forgotten her in its ceaselessness and pitilessness. 

“Hell of a party,” Kaidan said. He leaned against the wall beside her, his arms crossed and his head tilted to the side. 

“Yeah,” Imani said. She sounded breathless. That was silly, there was no need to be. “Yeah, it really is.”

They were silent for a while. Imani enjoyed standing there with him, having the silence be enough, having it -- for once in what felt like a very long time -- be comfortable. 

“Kaidan,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Imani murmured. “For... being here, I guess. For trusting me.”

“I was an idiot not to,” Kaidan said. “You’re a damn good soldier, Shepard, and a better friend.” He smiled and took her hand, squeezing softly. “Happy birthday, Commander.”

****  
By the time she made it back to her room, Imani was tipsy edging towards pleasantly drunk, and her whole body ached. It was a pleasant ache, a good ache that made her smile as Garrus and Thane eased her down on the bed. Thane slipped off her shoes and kneaded her toes between his fingers, slipping his thumb roughly over the heel of her foot and up sole.

Garrus slipped her jacket from her shoulders and let his teeth gently nip at her collarbone. The warmth that flooded her belly had nothing to do with alcohol. Imani hummed and gripped Thane’s jacket in her hand while turning to brush her lips over Garrus’ cheekbone. 

“You’re drunk,” Garrus reminded her. 

Imani laughed. She had honestly never felt more sober in her life. They were an intoxicating influence, but nothing that made her lose control. If anything, Imani felt even more in control, like she could reach out and cradle the entire universe in the palm of her hand if she wanted to. A dangerous way to feel, to be sure, but gods, it was her birthday, and they were so close to her and so good to her and she wanted to drown in the feeling.

She took his hand and led his fingers to her breast. Garrus cupped her, roughly, and leaned down to nudge his face against her throat. Just like Garrus to pretend they had all the time in the world, that there was no rush, no need to skip the good stuff. He teased her, while Thane pleasured her, and the feelings converged and made her toes curl.

Imani undressed quickly, wanting them as close as they could get. She sighed against Garrus’ mouth as Thane kissed from her foot to her ankle, and higher still, lips soft and hot against the inside of her thigh. Garrus cradled the back of Thane’s head with his free hand, fingers molded to the shape of his skull. If there was a better way to wish her a happy birthday, Imani honestly didn’t know what it could be. 

“Looking a little overdressed,” Imani said.

Thane got to his knees on the bed, between her open legs, and moved out of his jacket. Imani wanted to tell the both of them that dressing in so many layers made quickies pretty damn awkward, but she enjoyed watching them move. There was truth in their movements, subtle things that summed them up so perfectly. Thane moved fluidly and gracefully, undressing like it was an artform. Garrus, however, undressed slowly and clumsily, fingers slipping and catching on buttons and zippers, swearing softly under his breath.

She loved them both, almost more than her heart could stand. She loved Thane and his sharpness and his focus and his infinite patience. She loved Garrus and his determination and his fumbling and his hot swears against her neck. 

Thane chuckled and pressed a kiss to Garrus’ jaw, gently moving his hands away and letting his own fingers take over undoing his fly. “Let me,” Thane murmured. “I enjoy the entertainment, but there are only so many hours in a day.”

“Yeah, well, some of us don’t have your coordination,” Garrus said. “Though I like to think I have it where it counts.”

“We would agree with that, I think,” Thane said.

“Oh, yeah,” Imani said. “Reach and flexibility.”

Garrus laughed, and it shook against her throat, stuttered when she grabbed hold of him. Another difference, and one she was especially fond of; Garrus was nothing like Thane below the belt. He was short and thick, with ridges along his shaft that looked like they might be sharp as thorns, but were soft and flexible under the heel of her thumb. Imani stroked over the protrusions, feeling Garrus shiver.

That sense of control never wavered. She still felt like she could ride the most brutal and dangerous edge of the galaxy and never tremble from the awful terror of it. It was a heady feeling that left Imani reeling, but it was pleasant, and filled her with adrenaline.

With her free hand, she gripped Thane’s cock. He always felt so nice in her hands, smooth and long and slick, hard-wired with too much muscle and tension. Imani stroked him with the same laziness and absence that she did Garrus; no need to hurry, no need not to let her fingertips explore.

Garrus reached between her thighs and spread her lips with two fingers, the third flicking against her clit, over and around, never applying enough pressure to make the pleasure bite down. He teased her with it, as he teased her with most things, and Imani arched her back and gave herself over to the teasing, to the toying. 

Thane’s fingers were inside of her, down to the webbing. Imani moaned and lifted herself off the bed, riding on his fingers and digging her toes into the sheets. Her hands tightened around their cocks, her strokes becoming fast and erratic, with no clear desire other than she wanted them to feel the same pleasure, she wanted them to drown with her, to ride the edge, to feel like the universe was being shaped and bent and broken at their whim.

_Dangerous_. Everything that made her toes curl and her breath catch and her teeth snag on her lips was dangerous, though. Dangerous and beautiful, like her, like Thane, like Garrus, like the three of them together. 

Imani came, shuddering and hips bucking and thighs sheened with sweat. But it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. Thane leaned down between her thighs and let his tongue lathe over her clit, licking at her and Garrus’ fingers, not caring much which he ran his tongue over. 

She came again, harder than before, her vision blurred and threaded with white. Someone kissed her throat, grunted against her, and came with her. She couldn’t have said who. She had lost track of time and their bodies against her. She only knew that her hands were tight and their cocks were hard and pulsing and she was pulsing with them.

When her vision cleared and her breath returned to normal, Imani looked down to see Thane still between her thighs. Garrus, then. She smiled as he rested against her, tracing kisses from his jaw to between his eyes. 

Thane was breathing rapidly. He whispered her name, both of their names, and tensed. The muscles under her hand, already tight, tightened more, until she wasn’t sure if Thane was close to an orgasm or about to snap in her hands. His breath rushed out in a long, groaning sigh, and his body shuddered and relaxed against her side, her hand left slick and slightly sticky. 

Imani rode the edge of the universe, painfully aware that she might not be strong enough to stop herself and everything she loved from plummeting into the abyss. But she rode as well as she could, slipping her arms around them, pulling them closer to her skin, carrying them with her as she went. 

She thought, _Just a little longer. Just like this._

She thought, _Forget the math and the hard, bitter truth. You can save everyone, or you can sure as hell carry them with you._

If she fell, it wouldn’t be so bad. 

It might be like floating. Like finding home. 

The darkness was never quite as bad as you believed it to be. There was always some light, even in the darkest places, something to hold onto; a hand to hold or a pair of arms to pick you up when you careened into the void.

That void loomed oppressive and stark and grim in front of her.

But she’d be damned if it would eat her alive. 

****

Imani woke up in the middle of the night and slipped from her bed as quietly as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was wake them. It would be almost criminal with how good they looked, spooned together, their bodies blending into one shape under the sheets. 

She poured herself a drink, nothing too strong, only enough to blunt the sharp edges of her mind and let her enjoy the darkness and the quiet and the soft breath of her lovers as they slept. 

A dangerous feeling, that you could save the galaxy. Worse was the feeling that you could doom it, that everything rested on your shoulders, on your movements, on your words and your will and your strength. 

But _gods_ , it was her birthday, and she wanted to be still. She wanted to be still and small and scared and so in love with them that it hurt her.

Imani sat down on the edge of the bed and she was small, and scared. For a little while, she was much more and much less than Commander Shepard.

A dangerous feeling, being human.

The _most_ dangerous.

**Author's Note:**

> A commission written for commanderbishoujo on tumblr! 
> 
> Her Shepard, Imani, is really one of my favorite characters ever. She's so strong and remarkable and still so fragile and vulnerable. I wanted to play with those sides of her here, have her experience conflicting feelings of being strong enough to save a universe and still small and human enough to be terrified of everything in front of her. 
> 
> Happy birthday, bisho! <333


End file.
